by Rick Dakan
CHAPTER 5
26
And now, apparently, the plan was for him to stay with Chloe. All in all, that sounded like a pretty appealing plan. Paul had no idea what she wanted from him or even why she was doing this, but he was assuming/hoping that she was as attracted to him and he was to her. Hopefully he'd find out tonight at this mother-of-all-parties she was planning.
They quickly unloaded the car into Chloe's living room. "We'll get you sorted out later. Right now I'm starving, let's go get some lunch."
Lunch was at a hole in the wall Thai place not too far from Chloe's house. The owners seemed to know her and brought her and Paul Thai iced teas without asking. Chloe had Pad Thai and Paul ordered the special -
something involving shrimp - and then, for the first time in hours, he had a chance to catch his breath.
"Wow," he said. "It's been quite a freaking crazy ass day."
"I'll bet," she replied. "Beats drowning your sorrows in cheap margaritas though, doesn't it?"
"Definitely, assuming we don't all go to jail."
"No one's going to jail. I ain't never been caught yet."
"Do you do this kind of thing often then?" asked Paul.
"Well, not this exact kind of thing, no. But I've been in some shit way worse than this." She reached across and put her hands over his and looked him right in the eye. "Don't worry about it, Paul. Everything's going to be fine. I promise, Ok?" And he believed her. He wasn't sure why, but he believed her. "So, what're you going to do with all that money?"
"I don't know," said Paul. "Probably move back to Florida. Buy a house. Invest the rest I guess."
"What's in Florida?" she asked.
"My family, most of my friends. Greg and I are both from there originally, but he moved out here years ago to start his first company. I only came out to start the game company. Now there's no real reason to stay."
"You don't like it out here?"
"Oh, it's fine," he said. "It's actually pretty cool. But it's expensive. And I think my $850,000 will go a hell of a lot further back there than it will out here. I could by a condo like the one I was living in for less than a hundred K. back home. Here it'd cost me two or three times as much."
"Yeah," said Chloe. "I grew up here so I guess I'm used to the crazy prices and stuff. I certainly understand your wanting to go home though."
Then the food arrived and they dug right in. It was good. Damn good for five bucks, and Paul said so to Chloe.
"You see," she said. "Not everything out here is expensive. You just need a local guide to show you the ropes."
"Maybe you're right," said Paul. "To be honest, I've been here almost three years and I don't really know the area very well at all. Most of my time's been either at work or at home or hanging out with people from work at somebody's house."
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"Sounds like you need to get out more and see some of our local sights before you head back east."
"That's a pretty good idea." There was certainly no hurry to go anywhere, he thought. There damn sure wasn't anyone like Chloe waiting for him back home. Not even close.
Chloe and Paul each took a moment to dig into their food. It was spicy enough to make his eyes water, which was just the way Paul liked it, and he was pleased to see Chloe heaping even more chili sauce onto her own dish. On some level Paul thought anyone who didn't like spicy food was a wimp, and it was becoming more obvious with each passing hour that there was nothing at all wimpy about Chloe.
"But back to my question," she said after a few minutes. "What're you gonna do with all that money?"
"I told you," he said "Buy a house, live off the interest."
"Yeah, sure, but what are you going to actually do? How are you going to spend your time?"
"Oh, well, I'm not sure. I could start up a new comic book I suppose. Maybe something based on what's happened to me here."
"Do you miss making comics?" she asked.
"A ton. I really miss just being my own master and not having to sit through endless design meetings where I have to justify every decision to everyone in the company."
"You like being master of your own destiny," said Chloe. "I'm exactly the same way. I can't even hold down a straight job anymore. I just get too pissed off at dumb people telling me what to do."
"What do you do for a living then?" asked Paul, although as he asked the question he realized that he was a little scared to hear the answer.
"Oh you know, this and that. I just try to have fun." She paused and cocked her head to the side. "Come to think of it, I don't really know how I make money. Something always seems to come up though. Life's funny that way." Paul took this to mean that it was none of his business.
"But come on Paul, answer the question," she pressed. "What're you going to do with $850,000?"
"I'm pretty sure I answered that," said Paul.
"You only sort of answered it."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," said Chloe, leaning back in her chair and pushing her empty plate away. "That your answer sucks, and I'm going to keep asking until you come up with a better one."
"What?" said Paul, "You want me to give some of it to you?"
She laughed. "No, you big goofball. I don't need your money. But this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. You could do something really exciting with this money. You could do almost anything, at least for a time."
"And then I'd be out of money and back where I started," he said.
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"Or maybe you'd be out of money and somewhere millions of miles away from where you started," she said.
"Maybe you'd do something that would change your life forever and you'd never be able to go back. Never want to."
"Haven't I committed enough felonies for one day?" he asked, jokingly.
"Shush, you!" She chided. "There's never such a thing as too many felonies - as long as they're the right felonies."
"Speaking of which," said Paul as he looked at his watch. "I think it's about time to make a withdrawal."
"Ok, pal, let's go get your booty," said Chloe, as she stood up.
"Booty?" asked Paul, his mind turning towards another kind of booty as he stood up as well.
"You know! You're ill-gotten gains. Your filthy lucre." She suddenly leapt towards him, jumping into his arms. He caught her - just barely - with an audible ooof. "C'mon! Don't you know your pirate slang, rich boy?"
He smiled widely even as he strained to hold her whole weight. Their faces were very close now - just inches apart. "Ohhhhh...Booty!" he said. "I thought we were going to a strip club or something."
"Yeah, you wish, cowboy." Her face was very close now and they were looking straight into each other's eyes.
Paul decided to go in for the kiss. She turned her head just enough so that his lips pressed against her cheek instead of her lips, but he played it cool like he'd always planned it that way. He made a loud fake kissing noise as he pulled away.
"All right then," said Chloe, disentangling herself and finding her feet again. "Let's finish this up and get you paid." She tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table and turned towards the door. Paul watched her walk off and caught his breath. Suddenly he felt sick again. What was he doing? What had he done? Who was this person?
Then she turned and looked over her shoulder at him, smiling. "Come on, pirate-boy. Your booty awaits."
Paul couldn't have stopped himself from staring at her ass even if he'd wanted to.
"Right behind ya," he said, and went to go get his money.
Forty-five minutes later they were fighting their way through rush hour traffic. However, the gym bag full of money in the trunk made it easy for Paul to tolerate the crowds of cars.
Everyone at the little bank had watched them the entire time they'd been in there. It wasn't often that someone took out $850,000 in cash. Chloe had put her wig and sunglasses back on, just in case, and Paul wished he'd had a disguise of hi
s own. As they drove away, Paul watched Chloe out of the corner of his eye as she removed the wig. She'd worn it because she didn't want to be recognized on the videotape. She didn't want to be recognized because what they'd done was probably illegal. She didn't want to be recognized because she was a thief.
Paul stopped the car, pulling into a McDonald's parking lot.
"You're hungry again?" said Chloe in surprise. "There's going to be food at the party you know."
His throat was dry and his stomach roiling. But he had to do this; it was the only thing that made sense. "Can I meet you at your house later?" he asked. "For the party."
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"What do you mean?" she said, looking at him intensely. "Paul, what's wrong?"
"Can you get a ride from here?" He asked.
"From here...I don't..."
"I just," Paul said. "I just need to be alone for a little while. Do some things. Some private things."
Chloe stared at him hard. Then she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead and then opened her door.
"Ok," she said sweetly. "I understand. You're still coming to the party though, right?"
He smiled unconvincingly. "Of course," he said. "I'll bring some champagne to celebrate with."
"Great," said Chloe. "I'll see you in a few hours then?" He just nodded and she closed the door. He pulled immediately back into traffic, heading for the freeway.
He hid the money. Made sure it was safe. Even if Chloe and her friends did turn out to be heartless thieves they wouldn't be able to steal from him. He took out $10,000, which seemed a ridiculous amount of money to carry around, and stashed the rest away in a safe place he knew. After that he drove around for a while, debating back and forth whether to go to the party or just disappear. Or maybe even give the money back to Greg. Or maybe...No. They'd done nothing but help him. He owed them some thanks at the very least. And he wanted to find out. To find out about Chloe and see what it was that she really wanted.
He decided to stop by the house, just for a few minutes anyway. Just to say thanks.
Chapter 6
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Chapter 6
Paul was late for the victory party. When he finally arrived back at Chloe's house he found her driveway and neighborhood so crowded with cars that he had to park on the next street over. He was ever so slightly worried about leaving his car out of sight in this neighborhood, but really it was his nervousness about the party that tied his stomach in knots. A $120 bottle of champagne under his arm, Paul walked bravely up to the front door, which opened from within before he could touch the doorbell.
"8:17!" shouted Chloe as she flung the door wide, a wristwatch held in her hand. "Who bet closest to 8:17?"
Chloe wore a green and blue sari wrapped low around her waist and a white t-shirt on which someone had used a sharpie to write "HOOK-HER" on the front.
A young, stocky Asian American woman named Bee stepped forward. She held a little piece of paper in her hand, which she shoved playfully in front of Chloe's face. "8:15! I had 8:15!"
Behind the two women a tall, rail-thin man appeared, wearing a faded blue polo shirt with the Microsoft logo on it and a pair of khakis. Paul recognized him as Raff, whom he'd met the night before. "Just barely beat my 8:00." He said. Raff was the computer guy - the lead hacker in the group who'd been responsible for sorting through the reams of electronic data they'd stolen and finding the juicy bits. He'd also masterminded the attack on the company Web site and some of the other problems that had tied his former partners up in the hours after Paul had gotten the check. "I wanted to bet 'never' but Chloe had already taken that one."
"Don't listen to him, Paul," said Chloe. "I just bet never because I knew everyone else would want it and I alone had faith in your return. But the others decided to have a little betting pool about when you'd finally show up after you pulled your little disappearing act earlier." Chloe waggled her finger at him in mock scolding. "You're a naughty little boy, giving me the slip like that."
Paul had been expecting this chastisement, although he'd feared that Chloe would be much more serious about it. He had, after all, pretty much dumped her at the side of the road with nothing but cab fare. "Yeah, I'm really sorry about that. I want to explain..."
Chloe grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the house. "Forget about it. I completely understand. You had something you needed to do alone. All that matters is that you're here now and it's time to have some fun!"
The house was full to capacity, a feat that wasn't too hard given that there really wasn't much room for humans in the crowded house to begin with. The number of computers in the living room had tripled over the course of their little "operation" and now they served as makeshift tables for cups of beer, ashtrays, and plates of food. Paul recognized most of the people from the night before, although there were plenty of new faces as well. He wondered what the protocol was in a situation like this. Did all these strangers know about his crimes and the con they'd pulled earlier that day? Should he even mention it?
"Chloe, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure, Paul. The beer's in the kitchen." She pointed towards the back of the house. "You can put your champagne in the fridge if you want. We should save it for later I think. Just help yourself to anything that looks good."
"Actually, I had another question."
She smiled at him and put an arm around his shoulders. "Whatcha need, babe?"
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"How do I..." he stammered. She felt warm and inviting and, once again, smelled so good. "What should I...What should I say to people? About what happened today I mean?"
"Whatever you want. Everyone here's in the know. Hell, almost everyone here had a hand in making it happen. So, I guess the first thing I'd say is 'thanks' and then go from there. No worries though, we're all family here. This is my Crew - you can trust them."
"Oh," said Paul. "Ok, that's great then." All these people? All of them knew? There had to be fifteen strangers in this house, and they'd all helped him extort a ton of cash from his best friend. He was starting to think that maybe he had made the right decision about coming late and taking care of his little errand first.
"Cool," she said. "Right now I gotta pee. Go get yourself a beer." With that Chloe disappeared down the hall, and Paul was left to his own devices, although not for very long. It was as if Chloe's stepping away had been a sign for the others at the party to descend on him. Raff was the first, holding out his long-fingered hand in congratulations.
"That was a great score today, man," said the tall hacker. He had to be 6'5" at least, mostly skin and bones and brain. Raff however, didn't have the physical insecurity that Paul associated with the computer programmers he'd worked with. This hacker radiated confidence and even a certain amount of grace. More like a star basketball player than an awkward desk jockey. "We were listening to the whole thing through the mic in Chloe's briefcase. She really went to town on those guys, huh?"
"Yeah," said Paul, "She's pretty amazing. She was pretty amazing I mean. They didn't know what hit them."
"They never do with Chloe," Raff said. "That's why she's the man."
"Right," said Paul. "Anyway, Raff right? I just want to say thank you for helping me out. I really appreciate it."
"No problem, man! It was a real kick. I live for this shit. Listen, can I get you a beer or something?
Newcastle? Guinness?"
"A Newcastle'd be great, thanks," said Paul. "But I'll get it - you've done plenty for me already." Paul sidled by Raff and into the kitchen, where he saw Bee and another woman already standing in front of the open door to the refrigerator.
Bee was maybe five feet tall and had a stocky build that would never be thin, even if she lost some of the extra weight she was carrying around. Chloe had said that she was a very talented electrical engineer and would have been in charge of wiring up the hidden cameras if the Crew had chosen a different plan last night instead of the one th
ey ended up going with. Bee had already pulled a bottle of Newcastle out and was handing it to Paul.
"Thanks," he said.
"There's a bottle opener on the counter there," said Bee, her attention now focused on the refrigerator's contents, which Paul saw consisted almost entirely of a brown rainbow of different beers. "Let's see. Let's see.
What looks yummy for my tummy?"
"What do you care? You don't even like beer," said the woman standing next to her, who'd pulled out a Newcastle for herself. She then turned her attention to Paul, leaving Bee to make her choice on her own. She held out her beer to Paul, who had just finished opening his own after putting the bottle of champagne down on the counter. "Could you do me as well?"
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"Sure thing," he said. Paul took her beer and opened it. Returning it to her he said, "I'm Paul by the way."
"Of course you are," she said. "You're the only stranger here, so you'd have to be, wouldn't you?" She was an attractive young woman, with dark brown hair that fell in loose curls to her shoulders. She wore jeans and a black t-shirt with a steel-studded leather belt. She wiped her hand on her pants before extending it back towards Paul, who promptly shook it. "I'm Popper."
"Nice to meet you, Popper."
"So," she said, stepping close to Paul and leaning against the kitchen counter. "You satisfied with how things went today?"
"Yeah, definitely. I mean - wow. It's pretty impressive."
"I'll say. We haven't been part of a score like that in months."
"Four months, at least," chimed in Bee, who was still trying to pick a beer.
"I don't know what's more impressive," said Paul. "The fact that you guys helped me pull this off today or the fact that you've done something just as crazy before."